Paint the Town Green
by sdbubbles
Summary: "Your friends are on the phone now, it's so close to Paddy's Day; it kills you not to be there, but life got in the way; if I have to break the bank, spend every penny on your dreams; it's alright, 'cause tonight, we're gonna paint the town green." - "Paint the Town Green" by The Script. Fred and George throw a certain kind of party on March 17th, 1995. Set during GoF.
**A/N: This is just a daft little oneshot thing I wrote, because I'm living in Ireland and have seen how big St. Patrick's Day really is. It's also part of the If You Dare Challenge, and the prompt I used was "Light Dusting."**

 **Sarah x**

* * *

The common room was unusually quiet for a Friday evening; though the fire burned bright, everyone had their heads down working on homework, while the younger students, having learned to be considerate or the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. students, were quietly conversing and playing hushed games amongst themselves.

But in the corner, not paying any attention to his books or his homework, sat Seamus Finnigan.

He had been subdued all day, Neville couldn't help but notice. So he nudged Dean, Harry and Ron, and said, "What d'you reckon's up with Seamus?" Predictably, the other three shrugged their shoulders and went back to their homework. "He's been quiet all day. Barely said a word."

Dean sighed and put down his quill. "He said to me earlier he's missing home. It's St. Patrick's Day next Friday and he ain't got nobody to celebrate with. Said it's a big thing for him back home but nobody bothers with it here. His mum was telling him his Muggle mates are all going out into Dublin with their costumes and fake IDs next weekend for St. Patrick's Day. Going on about the parade and everything. I didn't know what to do so I left him to sulk it out."

"Fake ID?" repeated Ron, dumbstruck.

"So they can drink," Dean explained.

"Yeah, Muggles have laws about how old you have to be to drink," Harry chipped in – he had lived with Muggles long enough to know these things. "A lot of teenagers get fake ID – identification, you know – to get into pubs and stuff. I'm pretty sure my cousin must have one by now."

Neville glanced back at Seamus, wondering how to make him feel better; sulky Seamus was the worst Seamus imaginable to Neville.

He sighed; he didn't want to see Seamus homesick, or anyone else, for that matter. Most people dealt with living away from home quite well, but he could understand how events like St. Patrick's Day might make some of them homesick, particularly after the Quidditch World Cup in the summer. It had been a time Seamus had thoroughly enjoyed, according to Harry, Ron and Hermione. He knew there had been a great deal of Irish pride involved, and perhaps that experience made home feel even further away than usual for Seamus.

Neville stood up and headed towards Fred and George Weasley, a pair of sixth-years who were more than happy to aid any conceivable celebration. He sat down next to them and waited for them to look up from their homework.

"Guys," he whispered when they eventually looked around at him. "I need some help."

"Oh, in what department?" grinned Fred.

"Thinking of whipping up an excuse not to do your Transfiguration homework?" suggested George, with a grin equally infectious as his twin's.

"'Cause there aren't many excuses old McGonagall will take."

"Unless you're lying half-dead in the hospital wing."

"Even then she'd expect it as soon as you're fit."

Neville waved his hand at them, unable to prevent himself from laughing. "No, no," he chuckled. "Nothing like that. How big do you think you could pull off St. Patrick's Day? It's next Friday."

Fred and George looked at him for a moment, and then at each other with a glint of mischief in their bright eyes. "Well, why didn't you say so?!" hissed Fred.

"We'd be delighted to throw a Paddy's Day party!" George added, looking enthused, to say the least. It crossed Neville's mind that this was less than wise, but he put that thought to one side. Life was too short – he knew that all too well. "You've got one job, though, Neville," George informed him. Neville stared up at him, unnerved by the gleam in his already bright eyes. "Keep it quiet."

"'Course," smiled Neville, having half-expected to be tasked with smuggling in enough Guinness to get twenty Hagrids drunk. His grandmother would have killed him for it. "My lips are sealed."

"Good man!" grinned Fred, smacking Neville's back in a jovial manner.

* * *

It was only when they all woke on the morning of St. Patrick's Day that the magnitude of Fred and George's efforts became apparent. The fourth-year boys dormitory was an explosion of green – not the emerald green of Slytherin, but the cheerful green found on the Irish flag, and in various shades. The walls appeared to have been painted green overnight, obviously by way of some spell Fred and George employed.

Neville looked around to Seamus, who was groggily waking up, only to sit bolt upright when he finally looked at his surroundings. "Wha's goin' on?" he managed to demand, his voice still slurred slightly with sleep. "Why're the walls green?"

"Well," Neville smiled, "if you can't go to St. Patrick's Day, it's coming to you."

Seamus stared blankly at him for a moment, until he regained his equilibrium and bounced out of bed with great enthusiasm. "Who did the walls?" he asked happily. "And the flags?" he added, pointing at the Irish flags draped on the walls, and from the end of the five beds.

"Fred and George," Neville smiled, glad to have made his friend happy.

Once they were dressed, they headed down the stairs to find that the common room was more lavishly decorated than the dormitory had been. Again, the walls had been turned a bright green, and there were Irish flags aplenty, draped over chairs and used as table cloths, hanging from the walls and covering cushions, but there were also glittering gold shamrocks painted up and down the walls, reflecting the light of the fire throughout the room.

Neville looked down, only to find he was standing in what seemed to be a huge field of _real_ shamrocks, lush and green as they sprouted up from the floor, replenishing themselves after being stepped upon.

They were not the only ones impressed by the décor; most of Gryffindor house had made it down to their common room by now, and most of them seemed awestruck. After all, it had been done overnight, and to nobody's knowledge. It was impressive; even Hermione Granger, who usually took a dim view of Fred and George's antics, was turning on the spot, surveying the room with wide eyes.

Seamus was stunned. "This is _deadly_!" he half-shouted over the babble of the Gryffindor crowd.

Neville smiled and pulled Seamus out of the portrait hole – they were going to miss breakfast if they weren't careful. They ran down the stairs and were met with another flood of green when they reached the Entrance Hall. "Bloody hell!" exclaimed Ron Weasley, who was behind them with Harry and Hermione, with Dean, Lavender, Parvati and Ginny trailing behind them. "What have they _done_? McGonagall's going to murder them for this!"

"I don't think so," Harry said. "If she or Dumbledore wanted to take it all down, I'm sure they would've by now."

That was a fair point – even if it had infuriated Professor McGonagall, she would have put a stop to it already if she really wanted to. It meant she was probably no more angry with Fred and George as she usually was, at the very least.

Over the entrance to the Great Hall, there was a bright rainbow, which ended in a cauldron filled with gold; Neville presumed it was leprechaun gold, because the Weasleys would find that far easier to obtain than real gold. Inside, the sky was as light as it usually was on cloudless a March morning, with one notable difference: shamrocks rained in a light shower from the clear sky.

At the front of the Gryffindor table, Ginny Weasley sat with toast in her mouth and a paint brush in her hand, painting shamrocks on Colin Creevey's cheeks. Now he actually looked, at least a third of the students in the Great Hall were wearing face paint. Luna Lovegood, a third-year girl, was painting the faces of any Ravenclaws who desired it. Cedric Diggory, the other Hogwarts champion, seemed to have taken on the task for Hufflepuff, while a second-year Slytherin girl of whom Neville knew nothing was decorating her fellow Slytherins' faces, as well as the Durmstrang students'. Luna seemed to have painted a few Beauxbatons faces too.

Up at the staff table, Professor Dumbledore was wearing a hearty grin and what looked to be a leprechaun hat. Well, that meant St. Patrick's Day was here to stay. Professor Snape was eyeing the whole affair with disdain. Professor Sprout was watching happily as everyone enjoyed themselves, while Professor Flitwick was helping himself to a green, white and orange muffin. Professor McGonagall looked like she was torn between admiration for Fred and George's handiwork, and a desire to throttle them.

" _Deadly_!" shouted Seamus once more, sitting down in front of Ginny when Colin's face was successfully painted. "Can ye do me an Irish flag?" he asked her enthusiastically.

Neville smiled and headed down the table to get some breakfast. Fred and George had obviously been down to the kitchens, because, in addition to the green, white and orange muffins, there were biscuits with rainbows and pots of gold iced on them, scones in the shape of shamrocks, and the jugs of apple juice, milk and pumpkin juice had been coloured green, white and orange respectively, lined up to resemble the Irish flag.

Fred and George Weasley had outdone themselves this time.

* * *

Come dinner time, the whole school was alive and enthused. Dinner consisted of Irish stew, shepherd's pie, lentil and vegetable soup and colcannon, along with mounds of mashed, boiled and roasted potatoes, chips and bread.

For dessert, there huge amounts and green jelly and ice cream, Bailey's ice cream, lime sherbet and cupcakes decorated with various Irish emblems.

Fred and George had definitely had words with the kitchens.

Throughout the day, there had been whispers of a party in the Gryffindor common room, but only some students seemed to know about it, or, at least, only some students paid any attention to it. Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students had been gathered around Fred and George just before dinner, which made alarm bells ring for Neville. Luna Lovegood seemed to have put bright green streaks through her blonde hair, and Ginny Weasley was wearing a green and gold shawl over her shoulders.

When they left the Great Hall, there was a sign that read:

 _DUBLIN – Seventh Floor_

Neville smirked. There was definitely something happening up there tonight. Fortunately, it was a Friday, so nobody had lessons tomorrow. However, he still though Professor McGonagall would soon become tired of a loud and long party if they didn't watch their step.

Normally students would head in various directions to their own common rooms, but tonight there was a steady stream up the same flight of stairs, towards the Gryffindor common room. Someone tapped his shoulder as he followed the crowd to the common room; it was Seamus, whose face was still the colours of the Irish flag, with an excited glint in his eyes. "They changed the password," he told Neville. "Just for t'night. It's Dublin, OK? Surely you can't forget that?"

"I'll try," Neville chuckled, for he knew himself that he was prone to forgetting the passwords to the common room. It had almost got Ron killed last year, after all.

When they reached the Fat Lady, Seamus promptly said, "Dublin," and dragged Neville in by the robes. The scene that met them was a sight to behold. Dean Thomas was passing around pint tins of Guinness – Neville didn't even _want_ to know how they got hold of that – as well as Butterbeer and Firewhisky, and there was a huge table of snacks in the corner of the room. Students from all houses and schools were already here. Cedric Diggory, Susan Bones, Ernie MacMillan, Terry Boot, Michael Corner, Cho Chang, Hannah Abbott and Justin Finch-Fletchley were just a few that he recognised. He was very surprised, however, to find that there were also a handful of Slytherin students among the crowd. He recognised Daphne Greengrass, a girl in his year, who seemed to have taken her younger sister with her. Astoria, he thought the young girl's name was. He remembered her being Sorted. He had never seen them become antagonistic towards others, so while he gave them a wide berth, he had never passed judgement on them.

Among the foreign guests were the other two champions, Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum, and what seemed to be most of their classmates.

Neville watched Dean and was relieved to see he was at least refusing the first- and second-years alcohol, and some of the third-years were getting nowhere fast with him, either. Ginny had been allowed one tin, but it seemed Fred and George were drawing the line there: "But Mum'll never find out!" whined Ginny impatiently.

"She will," Fred soberly answered her.

"She always does," agreed George.

"And we would very much like to live to see our seventeenth birthday, thanks."

"If we get you drunk, she'll be after our blood."

Stamping her foot in frustration, Ginny relented and sulkily went back to the portrait hole to greet Luna Lovegood, who had just climbed through into the Gryffindor common room. Neville knew Ginny well enough to know she would get over it quickly, especially after she had ranted to Luna for a while.

Harry pressed a can of Guinness into Neville's hand with a grin. "This is _brilliant_!" he declared, his voice barely heard over the music and the noise of the crowd condensed into one common room. "How's Seamus?"

"Ecstatic!" laughed Neville.

He watched over the course of the next few hours – it was already after seven o'clock – as the gathering became steadily more drunk and less coordinated. More than once, Dean had fallen over. Cedric had started to dance on one of the armchairs. Hermione had abandoned her usual sense of decorum and was dancing away happily with Viktor Krum and the Patil twins. Fleur had even let her hair down, so to speak, as she chatted animatedly in English with Cho Chang and a Ravenclaw fifth-year boy whose name Neville didn't know.

Ron Weasley had fallen asleep in a chair by the fire, and Ginny and Luna had decided to break out the face paints to make him look as ridiculous as they possibly could.

Seamus, however, was showing no signs of stopping; he, Fred and George were jumping around with Irish flags around their shoulders. Seamus was very drunk, and had lost most of his coordination at least three drinks ago.

It was because of the ongoing noise that nobody heard it at first. Nobody heard the portrait hole open at almost one in the morning, and nobody noticed for a few seconds when the music was silenced, because it wasn't the music that made up most of the noise. When Neville turned around, he saw Professor McGonagall standing there in her dressing gown, looking less than impressed. "What on Earth do you think you are doing?!" she demanded, her tone deadly.

"Paddy's Day party, Professor!" Seamus called back. "Just like home!" At that moment, he stumbled and had to be caught by Fred and George.

"Do try to keep yourself upright, Mr. Finnigan," Professor McGonagall sighed, with a long-suffering roll of her eyes.

Seamus laughed and stood up straight. "Sorry, Professor! Couldn't hit a cow's arse wi' a banjo t'night!" The crowd of students burst into a fit of laughter.

Professor McGonagall stared at him with a look that could kill several times over. Her glare moved to Fred and George, since it was always them who were responsible for these things, and said, "And what have you done to the common room?!"

"Just a light dusting of green," grinned George.

"And gold," added Fred, eyeing the glittering shamrocks on the walls.

Professor McGonagall's gaze washed over the students of various houses and schools, and added scornfully, "And a little shower of alcohol?" Ron Weasley snored loudly in his chair, catching the teacher's attention. "Or was it more of a torrential downpour?"

Many students, including Neville, found themselves muffling laughter into the sleeves of the robes. Impatient with her lack of progress, Professor McGonagall barked out her orders. "Right! Those of you capable of getting to your own dormitories without breaking your necks on the stairs, go to bed. _Now_." Her tone was not one any of them would argue with, drunk or sober. More than half the non-Gryffindor students quietly moved past Professor McGonagall, but the likes of Cedric, Luna, Cho, Ernie, Susan, Hannah, and most of the foreign students stayed where they were. With an irritated flick of her wand, she conjured up some sleeping bags, just as Professor Dumbledore had done last year, only these ones were bright green. "The rest of you, sleep here tonight."

There was a murmur of thanks through the remaining crowd as they went and got sleeping bags and found a clear space.

"Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Potter, you will wake Mr. Weasley up and get him safely to bed. Mr. Finnigan, you will sleep down here tonight. I don't want to be carrying you to the hospital wing," she eyed Seamus with an expression of mingled sternness and fondness. Neville was not frightened by Professor McGonagall's demeanour; every Gryffindor knew she had their best interests at heart, all the time. "None of you are to complain to me about being hungover in the morning, and none of you are to bother Madam Pomfrey with such stupidity. Do you understand me?"

Everyone agreed to her demands, and Neville thought that was a wise moment to nudge Harry and start to wake Ron up. Seamus went and crawled into a sleeping bag, and Fred and George just stood there grinning, with Irish flags still around their shoulders. "Now," Professor McGonagall exhaled, clearly trying to keep her temper in check. "Go to sleep. All of you. Goodnight."

"'Night," most of the students muttered.

"Goodnight, Professor!" called Fred and George jovially.

Professor McGonagall turned and fixed them with her stern gaze, but before she turned her back on them once more, Neville could have sworn he saw a smile flit across her face.

* * *

 **Please feel free to leave a review and tell me what you think!  
Sarah x**


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